From the Ashes

By Patricia H. Rushford

Jennie McGrady's enthusiasm for the new school year is extinguished when the culturally diverse Trinity Center, home to her church and school, is destroyed by fire. Rumors abound that a racist organization is behind the tragedy, but Jennie is more concerned about the one person who was critically injured: family friend Michael Rhodes.

Jared Reinhardt has been in counseling with Michael, trying to break free of a neo-Nazi group—or so he claims. Jennie would like to believe him, but then she spots Jared slipping away from the scene of the fire.

Carlos Hernandez was present when the fire broke out and hasn't spoken a word since. His father, the church janitor, is a prime suspect, and Jennie is convinced the boy's silence stems from fear. Is he protecting his father, or has someone threatened to hurt him if he tells the truth? Jennie smells foul play among the remains.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
• Release date: Dec 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482989335

Book preview

Copyright © 1997 by Patricia H. Rushford

E-book published in 2015 by Blackstone Publishing

Cover design by Kathryn Galloway English

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental

and not intended by the author.

Trade e-book ISBN 978-1-4829-8933-5

Library e-book ISBN 978-1-4829-8932-8

Juvenile Fiction / Mysteries & Detective Stories

CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress

Blackstone Publishing

31 Mistletoe Rd.

Ashland, OR 97520

www.BlackstonePublishing.com

For Corisa Lester and Jennifer Anderson

and for friendships that last forever.

A special thanks to Evelyn Larkin and Birdie Etchison

as well as the Clark County Medical Examiner’s office,

and Vancouver police and fire fighters—

especially to Don Phillips and Don McCoy

for lending a degree of authenticity to From the Ashes.

1

Jennie, pull over. Hurry! Lisa urged. We have to let them get by.

I’m trying. Jennie McGrady nosed her red Mustang into the right lane of traffic. Sirens howled and horns tooted through the hot and hazy September afternoon. Jennie’s thoughts quickly turned from cooling off in their friends’ swimming pool in Lake Oswego to merging with the dozens of other vehicles that clogged the four-lane boulevard.

A hard knot formed in the pit of her stomach as four red fire trucks and two ambulances whizzed by. The heavy traffic impeded their progress, and Jennie hoped they’d make it through in time to wherever they had to go.

Oh wow. I wonder if that’s where they’re going. Looks like a huge fire. Lisa, Jennie’s cousin and best friend, rolled down the window and leaned out to get a better view.

Jennie scanned the blue sky, her gaze coming to rest on billowing black clouds barely visible over the tree-covered hillside. She eased her car back into traffic, staying in the outside lane in case other emergency units needed by. They had gone only a short distance when sirens split the air again. Police cars this time.

Oh no. Lisa covered her mouth, and panic filled her green eyes. What if it’s … no, I can’t say it.

She didn’t have to. The billowing fireball seemed to be emerging from the woods near their church and school. Trinity’s not the only building over there, Jennie reminded her. The fire looks close, but it could be farther away.

I … I know. Let’s go by the church to make sure.

Jennie nodded, turning onto Brentwood Road. The two-lane road meandered up the hill, past elegant homes snuggled between stately evergreens. She could smell the smoke that settled over them like a menacing fog. Neither of them spoke as they watched the fire now only a short distance in front of them. Just ahead, two police cars blocked the road, their lights flashing. Two uniformed officers were setting out flares and barricades. Several cars were parked on the street, and a crowd had already gathered.

It is Trinity! I knew it. Lisa gripped the door handle.

At least wait until I stop. Jennie jammed on the brakes, pulled over to the side of the road, and jumped out, tearing ahead of her cousin. The searing fire had bumped the heat up from 90 degrees to at least 110. Still she ran toward the flames, drawn by the choking fear that someone she knew might be hurt.

Hey, you can’t go in there! one of the officers yelled.

Jennie dodged her and kept running.

No! Lisa screamed. Let me go!

Jennie glanced back. The other officer had Lisa pinned against him, her arms and legs flailing as she tried to escape. Let me go!

Jennie slowed. What are you doing, McGrady? You just went through a police barricade.

The officer chasing her caught Jennie by the arm and spun her around. I told you to stop. You can’t go in there.

It’s our school—and church … Jennie stammered. I need to help.

The officer’s anger subsided. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do. We’ve got orders not to let anyone in there. It’s too dangerous. You need to vacate the area.

Jennie looked at the officer for the first time, letting her gaze drift over the woman’s frosted hair, into her dark brown eyes, and down to her badge and a name pin that read B. Saunders. Her bulletproof vest made her slender figure thicker, more masculine looking.

Do … do you know how bad it is? Jenny asked. Or if anyone was hurt?

Saunders shook her head. I haven’t heard. Just got orders to keep people out.

Jennie! Lisa cried. Make him let go of me. Her face nearly matched the color of her red curls. Two more police vehicles had arrived.

Jennie frowned at the handcuffs he pulled out. You’re not going to arrest her, are you?

Come on, Calahan. Cut her some slack. It’s their school, Saunders explained. And church.

That may be, Calahan growled, but we’ve got our orders.

One of the new officers put a bullhorn to his mouth. Listen up. We have orders to evacuate the area. Please move back.

An unmarked police car pulled in behind Jennie’s Mustang. A familiar dark-haired detective emerged.

Dad! Jennie barreled toward him, stopping just short of flinging herself into his arms.

What are you doing out here? He didn’t seem very happy to see her.

Lisa and I were headed over to the Beaumonts’ to swim. We saw the smoke and thought it might be … A lump clogged her throat. She managed to say, Dad, it’s Trinity.

His arm went around her shoulders as he guided her back up to where Lisa was still being detained. I know. I heard the call on my way home. Jason McGrady was a homicide detective for the Portland Police.

Can’t we do something? Jennie asked.

That’s what I’m here to find out.

Uncle Jason, I’m so glad to see you. Lisa brushed a hand across her eyes. Make them let me go.

What’s going on? Jason McGrady showed the officers his badge and introduced himself.

You know these kids? Calahan asked.

Yes, this is my daughter, and the one you’re holding is my niece.

Better get them out of here. We’ve got a four-alarm fire up there. Doesn’t look good.

Come on, girls.

Can’t we stay here with you? Jennie pleaded. We won’t get in the way.

No. Not a good idea, Dad said. I’ll try to get some details and let you know as soon as I can.

Heading back to the car, Lisa mumbled something about Officer Calahan’s bad manners. Uncle Jason should have punched him out.

Let it go, Lisa. Jennie glanced behind her at the still flashing lights. They were only doing their jobs. We’re lucky they didn’t book us—especially you. It’s against the law to hit a police officer. The poor guy’s legs are going to be black-and-blue.

Lisa sniffed, wiping away the last traces of tears with the back of her hand. I suppose you’re right. I just feel so—so angry. I wanted to see for myself. I wanted to do something.

Yeah. Me too. But like Dad said, we’ll be more help if we let the fire department take care of things. That’s the only—

An explosion rocked the ground. Jennie staggered back.

Get down! Dad shouted.

Jennie dove to the asphalt, taking Lisa with her.

Seconds later the hillside sat in stony silence. Debris rained down on them. Jennie felt numb and disoriented. Her elbow burned where she’d scraped it on the rocks. The pungent smell of smoke nearly overpowered the tar from the road. Sharp pebbles bit into her bare legs and the side of her cheek.

Jennie rolled onto her back, sat up, and brushed herself off, staring at the blood oozing out a small cut on the back of her hand.

This can’t be happening. Lisa picked a patch of tar from her knee.

As if to argue the point, a piece of charred paper floated down, landing in front of them. Jennie picked it up. If she’d needed proof, there it was in black and white. Trinity’s letterhead with half the page burned. The only words still legible was their mission statement: A community of caring people serving you. An embossed cross making up the T in Trinity was all that remained of the heading. Jennie swallowed hard, biting into her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

2

Dad and the other officers checked Jennie and Lisa for injuries. Dad dug a bandage out of the first-aid kit in his trunk and carefully placed it on Jennie’s hand. We need to get you two out of here. Can you drive, Jennie?

Jennie nodded. When he opened the car door for her, she slid in. As if on automatic pilot, Jennie pulled the seat belt around her and buckled it. The scene was like something you might see in a war movie. Not something that happened in an elite neighborhood near Portland, Oregon.

Officer Saunders helped Lisa in on the passenger side, then reached across to buckle her in.

Are you sure you can make it out of here all right? Dad clasped Jennie’s shoulder.

Jennie assured him she was fine. Fumbling with the keys, she managed to start the car, turn it around, and drive back down the hill.

I don’t know how you can be so calm. Lisa glanced at Jennie, her green eyes still registering shock.

Jennie blinked back a new rush of tears. Calm? She was anything but. She’d learned in her life-saving classes through the Red Cross that you can’t panic. You do what you have to do, then when it’s all over, you can fall apart. Somebody has to stay calm. Since I’m driving it better be me.

Lisa leaned back against the seat and stared at her watch. I wonder if it’s on television yet.

Probably. Jennie’s gaze lingered for a moment on her cousin. Lisa’s copper curls hung in disarray as damp tendrils clung to her cheeks. Black smudges smeared her freckled face and her fluorescent lime T-shirt. She looked as bad as Jennie felt.

Jennie’s hands were beginning to shake. Hold on, McGrady. Just a little farther. Jennie turned right on Lakeview Drive, then made a left into the Beaumonts’ driveway. The castle-like home sat on a hill, surrounded by a moat of luxurious green grass. At one time the Beaumont mansion had seemed foreboding and threatening. Now Jennie felt almost as comfortable there as in her own home.

I wonder where Rafael and his dad are? Lisa scanned the grounds, looking for the gardeners. She’d developed a crush on Rafael Hernandez, and they’d gone out a couple of times. Jennie had hoped to see them as well. Mr. Hernandez’s brother, Philippe, and his son Carlos had only recently come to the US on a work release. Philippe was the janitor at Trinity.

I hope Philippe and Carlos are okay, Jennie voiced her thoughts. They would have been there.

Oh, Jennie, please don’t say anything. I don’t even want to think about who might be there.

Glancing back in the direction of the church, they could see the thick columns of smoke still pouring out. What had once been a beautiful complex with a blue-tiled roof was now an inferno. Names and faces of people she knew and cared about moved through Jennie’s mind. She blocked them out. Like Lisa, she didn’t want to think about the dozens of people who could have been inside. Jennie jerked her gaze back to the house, bringing the Mustang to a stop in the turnaround.

Allison and B.J. clamored down the steps, nearly tripping each other in the process. Where have you been?

Did you get caught in the traffic?

Did you hear about the fire? What happened to you?

Hurry up—they’re talking about it on the news.

Jennie didn’t know who had asked what and let Lisa answer their questions. They hurried inside and up to Allison’s room on the second floor, where Jennie plopped on the bed and sat cross-legged. Shhh. They’re putting someone in an ambulance.

There must be a lot of injuries. B.J. scrambled onto the bed beside Jennie and punched the control to turn up the volume.

Firefighters are still battling the blaze near Lake Oswego today. Residents reported the fire at four this afternoon. By the time firefighters arrived the blaze had consumed much of the facility. And just a few minutes ago we received word of an explosion. Authorities have evacuated the area. We have Brenda Ellis at the scene. Brenda, what can you tell us?

The cameras shifted from the newsroom to a reporter standing near police cars. It’s utter chaos out here, Mike. As you can see, the fire is still burning out of control. I’m standing in front of the police barricade. No one is allowed in other than emergency vehicles. They are especially wary now because of the explosion.

Any word on what caused that, Brenda?

Just speculation at this point, but one firefighter told me it may have been the oil furnace. I have the pastor of the church, Reverend Dave Wilson, here with me. Reverend, can you tell us what happened?

The camera zoomed in on Pastor Dave. He brought a fist to his mouth and coughed. His face was smudged with black smoke. We were having a board meeting this afternoon when the fire broke out. We’re guessing it started in the basement—maybe the furnace. It all happened so fast we barely had time to escape.

Allison grabbed B.J.’s arm. Oh, I just remembered. Daddy was at that meeting.

I know. B.J. pulled her arm away. Just listen.

I understand there were at least a dozen people inside. Did everyone make it out all right? Brenda asked.

As far as I know. I’m not sure who all was in the building. It’s been so chaotic. Michael—our youth director—went back in to check. I don’t know if he made it out before the explosion.

Jennie’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. What about Michael? What happened to Michael?

Michael Rhodes had come to Trinity a little over a year ago and had taken over the position of youth director that summer. He had been engaged to Jennie’s mother and they’d almost married. At the time, Jennie’s father was missing and presumed dead. Then Dad came home and changed everything. Jennie was thrilled to have her family back together but felt sad for Michael. She’d hated him at first, but she’d grown to love and admire him, as had all the kids at Trinity. He really cared about helping them.

Please, God, Jennie offered up a silent prayer. Let Michael be okay.

Let’s hope he did. We have no word yet on how many people have been injured. The reporter glanced at a note pad, then asked, The complex not only houses a church but a school as well, isn’t that right?

Yes, the church is the central-most part. It separates the grade school, K through eight, and the high school. Pastor Dave turned away and coughed against